


And So It Is.....

by Sybrant



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 20:30:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sybrant/pseuds/Sybrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU of Closer. ‘I’m leaving you…I’ve met someone else….I’m sorry.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	And So It Is.....

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ylith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylith/gifts).



> One of the first fics I wrote. Originally put on LJ.
> 
> A/N: This is based on a plot bunny that bit me while I was watching Closer. As a result some bits may seem a tad familiar :)

One more step. Just keep walking. Almost there…

Viggo breathed a deep sigh of relief as the door to his apartment finally came into view. All he wanted to do was dump his bags, have a steaming hot shower and go to bed. Not an extravagant goal, but hopefully an achievable one. Fumbling with his keys he was startled when the door he was leaning on was suddenly thrown open.

‘You’re back!’ With barely time to register what was happening he quickly found a pair of lips pressed to his, arms around his neck and a lithe body practically moulding to his own. Struggling to balance both his bags and the body in front of him he quickly stepped out of the embrace. Orlando stood in front of him, a cheeky grin on his face. 

‘Hey Vig. Miss me? Here…give me one of those’. Orlando reached over a grabbed one of the bags Viggo was holding before retreating into the apartment. Following him in Viggo closed the door, dropped his other bag by the door and groaned as his shoulders protested as he removed his coat. 

‘Did you wait up for me?’ Viggo entered the living room to find Orlando curled on one end of the sofa, a blanket abandoned on the floor next to several coffee cups, suggesting that he had.

‘Yep. Come sit next to me’. Ignoring Orlandos’ out stretched hand he instead opted for the chair opposite. Frowning slightly, Orlando opted not to make a fuss and instead spread out along the sofa. It was obvious Viggo was mulling over something, so he decided to simply wait him out. 

‘You’ve never waited up for me before.’ 

Orlando wasn’t sure whether that was an accusation or a complaint. When nothing else seemed to be forth coming he decided to simply bite the bullet, ‘So?’

‘So why now? What’s’ so different about this time?’

Pushing a curl out of his eyes Orlando sat up slowly and looked straight at Viggo. 

‘Nothing is different about this time. I just thought it would be a nice surprise. Obviously I was wrong.’

Standing up he brushed passed Viggo and disappeared into the kitchen. Opening the cupboard door with more force than was necessary he grabbed two mugs and slammed them down on the counter top. Reaching for the kettle he jumped slightly when a pair of arms slid round his waist pulling him back against a warm body. Orlando could feel the warm breath on the back of his neck as Viggo buried his face into the damp curls.

‘I’m sorry baby. It was a nice thing for you to do. I didn’t mean to be so ratty, I’m just shattered’.

Smiling, Orlando turned his head so he could place a chaste kiss on the lips of the man holding him so tight. Viggo smiled down at him, then reached over and grabbed the neglected kettle off the side. Striding over to the sink he began to fill it up.

‘So what have you been up to this week then?’

‘The usual…waiting on the wankers of the world who seem to feel a quick grope is included in the service. Did a bit of shopping…Oh! I ran into Eric, you remember him. Tall Aussie bloke we met at that opening last year?’ Viggo tensed, unobserved by Orlando who continued his monologue behind him. Eric…yes he remembered Eric. Tall, big brunette who spent the entire evening eying up Orlando. Not that Orli hadn’t noticed of course. No…he’d flirted right back. Grinding his teeth Viggo turned the tap off with more force than was necessary and plugged the kettle back in.

‘So anyway, after lunch we hung out here for a little while, watched a few films and stuff. Did you know he’s married now? Well he is and…’

‘You fucked him didn’t you?’ 

Stopping in shock Orlando stared at Viggo, who looked as though he was barely holding it together. He had a death grip on the countertop and had yet to actually look at Orlando.

‘What! Didn’t you listen to me? He’s married now. Where’s this coming from…’

Viggo span round and grabbed Orlando by the arms. Unable to break free Orlando settled for glaring back at Viggo instead. Locking eyes Orlando could see a variety of emotions swimming in the blue depths before him…anger…confusion…guilt?

‘You didn’t answer my question’

‘No I did not fuck Eric you twat’. Struggling slightly as Viggos’ grip began to hurt, Orlando placed his hands on the broad chest in front off him, attempting to push Viggo further away. 

‘But you wanted to?’ Orlando almost missed it, as Viggo murmured softly.

Stopping his struggles Orlando just looked up at him. ‘Eric is a friend. Nothing has ever, nor will ever happen between us. You want the truth? Of course I have wondered what it would be like. He’s a very attractive guy, but wondering and doing are two very different things. I love you Vig.’

The anger in Viggos’ eyes seemed to dim for a moment, though Orlando was confused by what he now saw there…guilt was still evident for some reason, as was a hint of….panic. Almost as if gaining a second wind Viggos’ grip tightened again, his eyes once again becoming steely.

‘Then why is your hair wet?’

Taken back by the sudden change in questioning Orlando could only stare, opened mouthed in astonishment. ‘What?’

‘Your hair is wet. You never wash you hair before bed as you said it made you curls go frizzy. You fucked him didn’t you? That’s why you had a shower, to make sure his scent no longer covered you!’

‘You’ve absolutely lost it! Jesus Vig, you’re hurting me! Let me go!’ Struggling more fiercely now Orlando found himself painfully shoved against the counter when Viggo suddenly released him. Rubbing his arms he stepped towards the door, however he found his pathway blocked. ‘Move’.

‘Not until I get the truth’. Viggo crossed his arms, his form filling most of the doorway.

‘I’m telling you the truth! Where is this coming from?! I never slept with Eric! You know I’m telling the truth!’ Breathing deeply trying to calm himself Orlando was surprised to feel wetness on his cheeks. ‘Why are you saying these things to me?’

Viggo just stood there, not saying a word. The kitchen was silent, only the sound of Orlandos’ ragged breathing and the hiss of the kettle disturbing the void. Their eyes never left each other. Slowly Viggo moved forwards until he stood in front of the young man before him. Gently he pulled the pliant body towards him, wrapping his arms around the thin waist. Trembling slightly Orlando rested his head on Viggos’ shoulder. He felt a hand move up his back until it was tangled in his hair, holding his head softly in place. Sighing softly he in turn wrapped his arms up the strong back of the man holding him. He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but he could have stayed there forever.

‘I’m leaving you.’ Viggo felt Orlando tense beneath him, his breath hitched.

‘What?’ The small voice, filled with disbelief drifted up to him. He felt Orlando trying to raise his head, however the hand in is hair prevented him moving far.

‘I’m leaving you.’ Viggo was unprepared for the sudden push Orlando gave him and stumbled backwards, slightly winded. Looking up he saw Orlando just…stood there, looking at him with such confusion…such grief. Viggo had never seen that look on his face, and it tore him up to know it was he who had put it there. 

‘Why? I didn’t fuck Eric! I swear I didn’t! I don’t understand…’

‘I’ve met someone else. I’m sorry’. Viggo dropped his gaze, no longer able to look at the young man before him.

‘What do you mean you’ve met someone else?’ Looking up Viggo reached out a hand towards Orlando, who suddenly stepped back out of the way. 

‘What do you mean you’ve met someone else? How...I don’t understand! How can you just say that to me?’ Orlando slumped back against the countertop behind him. ‘Who is he?’ 

‘She is an artist, a photographer. I met her at one of my exhibits’. Orlando blanched…she? Legs feeling a tad unsteady he made his way back into the living room, sitting down heavily on the sofa. Viggo warily followed him in, sitting tentatively back in the chair opposite. Orlando took a few deep breaths trying to calm himself.

‘How long?’ Orlando hated how weak his voice sounded, but at the same time…he didn’t care. Everything was just going so wrong.

Viggo didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He’d promised himself he’d tell Orlando, tell him the truth about everything…he just hadn’t planned on it being this soon. He hadn’t thought Orlando would be waiting up for him, he didn’t usually! But seeing him there, so happy to see him…he couldn’t keep the charade up. He had thought he’d have a while to figure out what to say, and when. This was not going how he’d planned.

‘How long Viggo! You owe me that much!’ Shocked out of his thoughts Viggo looked down, unable to meet the eyes of the man before him.

‘A year.’ Viggo looked up sharply as he heard strangled laughter coming from the sofa. Orlando sat with his head in his hands, shoulders shaking. Just as suddenly he was standing up, a disused mug sailing passed Viggos’ head to shatter against the wall.

‘A year! A fucking year! You bastard! How could you do this to me! You love me, I know you do!’ Just as suddenly Viggo found himself straddled by Orlando, arms tightly wrapped around his neck.

‘You love me…you love me…’ Orlando sobbed in his ear. Holding Orlando tightly to him Viggo could feel dampness on his shoulder where Orli wept.

‘I did love you Orlando….but now I love her…’

The body in his arms seemed to calm and Viggo could here Orlando mumble into his shoulder.

‘What did you say?’

Sniffing Orlando pulled back, resting his head on Viggos’ shoulder. ‘You knew I never did anything with Eric didn’t you? You were just pushing…trying to make me leave you first so you wouldn’t have to feel guilty’. Orlando felt Viggo nod. He pushed himself off his lap and made his way to the bedroom. ‘You’re a damn coward.’

Viggo didn’t follow Orlando. He just sat in shock over the suddenness of it all. He wanted to leave. He loved someone else, but still… It was Orlando. He couldn’t believe it was ending. He looked up as Orlando re-entered the room. He had thrown on a pair of jeans and had a duffle over his shoulder.

‘Where are you going?’ Orlando ignored the question and instead grabbed his coat off the back of the chair. Rising Viggo grabbed his wrist. ‘You’re not leaving now! It’s dark outside. It’s too dangerous’. Stopping, Orlando didn’t try to break free of the grasp, instead he just sighed, hovering on then spot before turning back to face Viggo.

‘You once told me you couldn’t take your eyes off me…When did this change? When did you stop loving me Vig? When did you get bored with me?’ Viggo loosened his hold on the wrist but didn’t let go. Cupping the tear stained face before him; he gently pressed his lips to Orlandos’ forehead.

‘I’m sorry…Just wait till morning. Please. Then I’ll go. Just…sit down for a minute. I’ll make us some tea…please…’ Agreeing, Orlando placed his bag on the floor and moved towards the sofa. Sending a soft smile towards the young man, Viggo headed back into the kitchen. The kettle didn’t take long to re-heat, which seemed odd as Viggo could have sworn hours had past since they were last in here, not minutes. Grabbing the now steaming mugs he wandered back into the living room. It was empty…the bag on the floor gone, the front door open…

Three years earlier…  
Orlando blinked his eyes, trying to make some sense of the fuzzy objects surrounding him. The roaring in his ears wasn’t really making matters any easier either. Blinking again he gasped, as several things suddenly became abundantly clear. First was that the fuzzy forms around him were in fact people, each sporting worried looking faces staring down at him. Secondly, for them to be looking down suggested he was lying on the ground, the cold hard surface beneath him supporting this theory. This however did not concern Orlando as much as the pair of angry dwarfs that were currently trying to bash their way out of his skull. Groaning he attempted to raise his hand to his head, only to find its movement suddenly haltered by another hand on his arm. Slowly turning his head he traced the arm back to its source. A man…handsome man his sub-conscious helpfully supplied…was knelt next to him. Orlando could just make out his lips moving, but had no idea what he was saying. Questions previously lurking at the back of his mind began to take form, each clamoring for an answer. Why am I on the floor? What happened? Who are you? What’s going on?, yet even he was surprised by what eventually passed his lips.

‘Hello stranger’. 

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Viggo could not believe his luck. First his alarm hadn’t gone off; meaning his leisurely wake up routine had to be compressed into a 5 minute mad dash to get ready, then he’d forgotten his phone (which was still sitting on his table). To top it all off, the cute guy he’d been checking out across the road had just stepped out in font of a moving taxi. Ok, so that’s more his bad luck than mine… . Still, he couldn’t believe it. The guy hadn’t even been looking the right way when he decided to cross! The sight of his body hitting the windscreen seemed to play-out in slow motion before Viggos’ eyes. Someone behind him screamed, but Viggo just ignored it, already moving towards the form now still on the ground. Dropping next to the inert body, he was greatly relieved to see the man…or was it boy…was still breathing. Only knowing some basic first aid, he knew that as the young man was breathing, and was already on his side it was best to leave him there. Reaching for his phone, only to realise it was still in the apartment he looked up at the woman standing next to him, about to ask for hers when he noticed the form below him beginning to stir. The young man attempted to raise his arm to his head, but Viggo quickly restrained the movement, still worried in case he had damaged anything else. 

‘Hey. Its ok. You’re gonna be just fine.’

Viggo was momentarily surprised when he slowly turned his head to look up at him.

‘How do you feel?’ Brilliant Viggo… ‘I mean, does anything hurt worse than…well, anything else?’ bravo my man.

A pink tongue darted out to wet dry lips. Brown eyes looked up at him, surprising in their clarity.

‘Hello stranger’.

Viggo blinked, uncertain what to make of that really. He was quickly drawn back into action however when the young man suddenly pushed himself up into a seated position, a motion that nearly reversed its self if Viggo hadn’t grabbed hold of him. The deep brown eyes in front of him now appeared slightly dulled, a look of confusion and pain on the face around them.

‘Take it easy! How do you feel?’ Viggo asked, catching the young mans gaze again.

‘I feel a little…funny. My head is killing me… What happened?’ Though tinged with pain, a smooth, undeniably English accent slipped out, answering one of the questions Viggo had been wondering about.

‘You were hit by a car. Do you think you can stand?’ Nodding gently, the young man leaned heavily on Viggo as they rose. Half carrying, half dragging the young man, Viggo made their way round the side of the cab. After a brief argument with the cabby, who was more than a little worried about being charged for something, Viggo managed to convince him to drop them off at the nearest hospital. Sliding into the back seat, he pulled the young man next to him and gently enveloped him in his arms, providing what little comfort he could. Warm breath caressed his neck as the young man placed his head on his shoulder, and Viggo sighed, silently thanking whoever was listening that things hadn’t been worse.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The waiting room of the E.R. wasn’t too busy Viggo was surprised to see. A drunk sat in one corner, silently sleeping off the night before, a mother with three children desperately tried to keep two under control, while the third sat forlornly holding a wad of material to a cut arm and an old couple sat huddled together, obviously waiting for some news on someone. 

Grabbing the second coffee out of the vending machine, Viggo quickly made his way back to…Kicking himself mentally Viggo realised he still did not know the name of the young man currently rifling through his bag. Stopping, Viggo looked on as the young man continued to route around; apparently not finding what he was looking for. Allowing himself to actually study the form in front of him Viggo smiled at what he saw. The man appeared young, early twenties at the oldest. He had short, brown hair – though it was long enough to tell it would most likely be curly if grown and pale, smooth skin, marked only by the blood currently dried to the side of his head. The nurse had assured them both that the head wound was not serious, which is why they were currently waiting their turn in reception. Clearing his throat, Viggo sat down next to the young man before offering him a coffee. Smiling guiltily, he blew on his coffee in an attempt to cool it down, before glancing at Viggo, deep brown eyes locking with his.

‘Sorry, was looking for a fag’. Viggo tried hard not to spit out the sip he had just taken, and instead opted for swallowing followed by coughing as it went down the wrong way. He almost started when he suddenly felt a hand gently rubbing his back. It was even harder not to give in and lean into the caress.

‘Are you ok?’ 

Nodding, Viggo smiled sheepishly before taking another sip. ‘What were you after?’

‘A fag. You know, a ciggy? A smoke?’ Viggo almost groaned in disappointment when the young man withdrew his hand, wrapping slender fingers around the paper cup instead. Oh how he envied that cup.

‘Sorry. Gave up years ago.’ Taking another sip Viggo suddenly remembered what he’d meant to ask. ‘I’m Viggo by the way.’ 

The young man smiled at him, before extending his hand in greeting. Viggo almost melted as he took the slender hand in his. ‘Hello Viggo. Thanks for saving my life’. Releasing Viggos’ hand the young man sat back and once again turned his attention to his drink. It took Viggo a few minutes to actually realise that he still had not gotten the name of the enigmatic beauty sitting next to him. Frowning he turned to try again when he noticed a small smile gracing his companions face. Laughing eyes met his and he desperately tried not to look too annoyed.

‘I’m Orlando.’ Orlando….Orlando…. Viggo desperately tried to think of something…anything to say instead of just sitting there with a silly grin on his face, mentally repeating that name Orlando…

‘So…you’re from England I take it?’

‘Accent a bit of a give away really’. Viggo could hear the laughter in Orlandos’ voice and got slightly annoyed. At least I’m making an effort!

‘You should probably remember that our traffic comes from the left next time then’. Wincing, Viggo realised that had come out slightly sharper than he had intended, however he was surprised to see Orlando smile even wider at him.

‘Just my luck really, first day here and almost get killed by a bloody taxi!’ Seeing his opening Viggo decided to just go for it.

‘First day here? Perhaps you would…um…maybe I could show you round sometime? You know…proper New York, not just the touristy stuff.’ 

Before Orlando could answer a rather harassed looking nurse came over, indicating it was his turn. Standing awkwardly he began to limp after her, before stopping and turning back to Viggo. 

‘Give me a minute with this charming lady then I’m yours for the rest of the day. Sound good?’ Ignoring the inner-voices battling in his head (What about work?... mine….Orlando….) Viggo simply smiled back at him.

‘Sounds great.’

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

He couldn’t believe it. First day in America had been so much fun! Well apart from being run over of course, but that didn’t count. Own bloody fault anyway….twit. After leaving the hospital with nothing worse than a mild-headache (thank god for painkillers!) and a sore ankle Viggo had indeed lived up to his promise and had shown him round the ‘non- touristy bits of New York’. Problem was however, that the non-touristy bits were non-touristy for a reason, and were actually rather dull. Viggo more than made up for it with his lively commentary, but Orlando was slightly frustrated that he still knew so little of his engaging host. For that reason alone he now found himself standing in the doorway to Viggos’ apartment. When the older man had discovered he had no where to stay tonight he had quickly offered up his own apartment…it would have been rude to refuse. Of course it had nothing to do with his masculine good looks, piercing blue eyes or his body…. Giving himself a mental slap Orlando followed him through the apartment and into the living room. Viggo took his coat and duffle before disappearing back out into the corridor. Orlando could have sworn he felt his fingers ghosting along his neck when he helped him with his coat. Wishful thinking Bloom. Deciding to make himself more comfortable he ungracefully dropped down onto the sofa.

Eventually Viggo re-appeared with two steaming mugs of coffee. After handing Orlando his, Viggo started to head for the chair opposite, until a tug on his jumper caused him to fall back heavily on the sofa instead. Hissing as the coffee scalded his hand slightly he glared at a rather smug looking Orlando, who instead ignored him and just smiled as he sipped his drink.

‘Thanks for letting me stay here tonight Vig. After today I’m bloody shattered! I really wasn’t looking forward to trying to find somewhere to stay’. 

‘You’re more than welcome.’ Pausing, Viggo put his mug down before scooting round so he could see Orlando better. ‘So Orlando, what brings you to New York? Business or pleasure?’ 

Orlando paused for a moment before draining the last of his drink. Turning on his side he now faced Viggo, bringing his legs up under him for comfort. If Viggo wanted to flirt then…

‘I’m hoping both. Some business can be very pleasurable’ Raising his eyebrows, Viggo gave Orlando a grin while turning some more, so he to now lay on his side, head propped up on his hand.

‘Really? So what is it you do?’

‘I’m a stripper’. Orlando almost laughed at the brief look that passed over Viggos’ face, sort of a combination of surprise, amusement and …lust. ‘Or rather was a stripper. Last guy I worked for was a right prick, so I decided to chuck it in and jumped on a plane’.

‘Just like that?’

‘Just like that. So tell me Viggo, what is it you do?’ Orlando began to twirl a short strand of hair through his fingers, an unconscious act, but one that had Viggo hypnotised. Viggo shifted slightly, bringing his knee in contact with Orlandos’.

‘Well, I’m a photographer. I take formal photos, like weddings, proms, stuff like that’ He watched as Orlando placed a hand gently on his knee, leaning forward as if about to share a secret.

‘And what is it you actually want to do?’ The hand stayed where it was, a warm weight on his leg. Viggo lent further forward till their faces nearly touched. He could feel Orlandos’ warm breath against his face with each exhale. 

‘What I really want to do is to have some of my work exhibited’. Orlando swallowed thickly, licking his lips as he felt Viggos’ hand caress the contours of his face and neck.

‘You mean wedding photos?’ The hand came to rest on his side, just above his hip. He could feel Viggos thumb moving slowly through the thin material of his t-shirt.

‘No…artistic photos. I also paint, though haven’t done either in years. I only capture things I find extraordinary.’ 

‘Would you take my photo?’ Putting his hand on the young mans back, Viggo pulled him close until their bodies were flush against each other. He could feel his erratic breathing, his un-restrained need as Orlando pushed against him. Lips, so nearly touching… 

‘You…’ Viggo whispered, ‘you are more than extraordinary. You, I can’t take my eyes off…not for one second’. 

 

Present day

Feet pounded the ground heavily, the sound echoing along the empty streets. Stumbling he fell clumsily to his knees, the rain water on the ground quickly soaking into his jeans. Breathing raggedly he just knelt there, desperately clutching his duffle to his chest as though somehow it would protect him from what had just happened….but it couldn’t. This wasn’t some dream he was going to wake up from. Glancing around he suddenly became aware of his surroundings, that he was knelt in the middle of the road, late at night in the pouring rain. Pulling himself to his feet he took a few steps before stopping, realising he didn’t really have anywhere to go. He was alone… Starting when a car alarm went off down the road he quickly realised he couldn’t really just stand here all night. It wasn’t exactly safe and it was too near…well….

Wiping viciously at tears on his face he began to walk again, mind furiously thinking of somewhere to go. The sky had begun to lighten by the time he found himself standing outside a door. Ringing the bell, he stood there shivering, the cold finally seeping through his soaked clothes, just waiting. He could hear banging and muffle curses echoing from inside. After what seemed to be a lifetime, the door finally swung open, harsh words cut off in shock.

‘Orlando?’

Tears began to fall again, but he was too tired to care anymore. ‘I’m sorry…I had no where else to go…’

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Three years ago

‘You…’ Viggo whispered, ‘you are more than extraordinary. You, I can’t take my eyes off…not for one second’. 

Lips met, hesitant at first, the lightest of caresses as they ghosted over each other, becoming more demanding as Viggo pulled Orlando closer. Viggo licked the younger mans lips demanding entry, a demand that was quickly obliged. Shifting slightly Orlando moved so he was lying back on the sofa with Viggo pressed tight on top of him. He arched upwards as Viggo began to suck on his neck, his nerves on fire with each bruising caress. He reached up and grabbed the older mans hair, pulling him back up for another savage kiss. Tongues battled for dominance, hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Orlando could feel himself becoming hard, the friction on the denim from his jeans and the heat from the firm body above him creating a welcome, yet maddening sensation. Spreading his legs, he enabled Viggo to lie snugly between his thighs and could clearly now feel a corresponding hardness against his leg. Viggo stilled above him, allowing Orlando to quickly moisten his kiss swollen lips before waiting for them to be claimed once more. Orlando groaned and opened his eyes as he felt Viggo pull back. He was more than a little surprised to see the older man staring down at him looking more contrite than turned on, especially considering he could currently feel the mans arousal clearly. Reaching up he attempted to draw Viggo back down, however he quickly leaned back out of his reach.

‘What’s wrong?’ Viggo shook his head and opened his mouth several times before actually issuing any words. 

‘Do you think we’re moving a little fast? I mean, we’ve only just met.’ Desperately trying to ignore the intense heat currently converging between his thighs Orlando hurriedly scrambled for a response that would be eloquent and convincing enough to convince Viggo to resume his previous position.

‘No’.

‘Are you sure? I mean, we have only just met, literally this morning…You shouldn’t even be doing this, you were run over for Christ’s sake!’ Viggo pulled himself entirely off Orlando, not without protest from the younger man mind you, and sat at the end of the sofa. Groaning, Orlando pushed himself up so he rested on his elbows and fixed Viggo with a fairly annoyed glare. 

‘I’m quite aware I was run over this morning…sort of a memorable event you know. Look, I’m fine...really. I want to do this…so what’s the real problem?’

‘I want to as well, believe me I do, but I think this is all happening…’

‘…too fast?’ Orlando finished, frustration lining his voice. 

Nodding, Viggo got up and left the room without further word. Sighing in disappointment, Orlando threw himself back, so he was once again lying down. What the hell? Orlando was more than a little confused. Sure they had been going a little fast but he didn’t mind, and he knew Viggo had been enjoying himself just as much. He wasn’t really sure what to do now, especially with a throbbing erection currently demanding his complete attention. Deciding that jacking off on some strangers’ sofa was not really a polite thing to do, he closed his eyes attempting to will the problem away. However the fact he could still smell the older man on himself, his lips gently throbbing from the ravishing they had just endured did little to help. Orlando was therefore fairly very surprised when, a few minutes later, a sudden weight descended on him and lips once again began to move against his. His eyes flew open, questions already forming on his lips, all of which was forgotten as he saw Viggo staring back at him with a look that was, for lack of a better word, feral. The blue eyes boring into him said one thing….mine. 

He shifted slightly, wrapping his legs around Viggos’ waist, resulting in a gasp as pelvises once again came into close contact. Rotating his hips slowly, he felt Viggo shudder above him as their erections pressed against each other. Orlando tightened his legs when he felt Viggo pull back, deciding he wasn’t letting go that easily again, putting his arms around the broad back as extra insurance. He let out a muffled squeak when he was unexpectedly pulled fully off the sofa, finding himself wrapped round a now standing Viggo, whose’ arms were now circling round his own back. Holding on tightly, Viggo carried the young man through to the bedroom, before gently laying him down on the bed. Pulling back slightly to remove his top Viggo admired the young man beneath him. Orlando looked up at him, brown eyes filled with lust, pale skin flushed, short hair sticking out in various directions. He watched as a pink tongue quickly moistened his swollen lips; it was the most erotic thing he had ever seen. Orlando quickly shed his t-shirt, allowing Viggo to gaze over the creamy expanse. Though slender, he could see clearly defined muscles beneath the silky smooth skin; dusky nipples begging to be suckled. Leaning forward he took one of the small nubs between his teeth and gently nibbled and licked, urged on by the small noises being emitted by the young man. He could feel hands in his hair and along his back as he continued to lavish small bites and licks across the heaving chest.

‘Viggo…Viggo wait…’ He looked up quizzically as the halting voice drifted into his ears. He quickly understood however when Orlando scooted further back onto the bed and removed his jeans in a fairly impressive piece of aerobics, before throwing them on the floor. Following suit Viggo soon found himself back in his former position, the feel of skin on skin heightening the excitement coursing through his body. He continued to nibble his way down the taught stomach, paying extra attention to the elaborate sun tattoo situated by the young mans navel. He ignored the weeping head in front of his face as he then moved to the firm thighs that had previously surrounded him; smiling as he heard a frustrated groan in response. 

‘Viggo…please! I can’t…’ Whatever else was about to be said was abruptly cut off as Viggo suddenly swallowed him whole, eliciting a fevered gasp from the writhing form beneath him. He held the younger mans hips down as he began to slowly move up and down, hollowing his cheeks to create extra suction. Looking up he saw Orlando had his eyes tightly closed, his lips parted in a silent cry. He let the rigid member slip from between his lips, quickly turning to the night stand to grab some supplies, ignoring the cry of annoyance from behind him. 

Sitting up Orlando took the lube and condoms from him and lay them on the bed. Pulling Viggo, he manoeuvred them both so Viggo now lay back on the bed and Orlando straddled him backwards. Passing Viggo the lube, he then turned back to face the older mans impressive erection. Taking the base in his slender fingers he began to pump slowly, at the same time sucking on the weeping head. He felt Viggo shudder beneath him as he gently licked and nibbled his way along the hard shaft. Orlando shifted onto his knees as he felt hands on his hips, pulling him upwards, gasping as his felt a lube covered finger tracing the small puckered entrance between his buttocks. He continued to pump steadily, taking more of the shaft into his mouth as he felt the finger slowly breach him. A second finger soon joined the first, scissoring inside of him. Orlando cried out in shock as the fingers were suddenly removed, and something wet and soft was thrust inside of him. Viggo continued to fuck him with his tongue, as Orlando began to pump faster. 

Orlando stopped as Viggo began to show signs of nearing release. Easing off the sweaty, heaving form beneath him, he turned and quickly picked up the discarded condom off the bed. Tearing the wrapper with his teeth, his slowly rolled the rubber over the straining shaft, before settling himself on his hands and knees. He felt the bed dip behind him as Viggo got to his knees, hands on his hips as he was pulled back. He could feel the head of Viggos’ erection nudging his entrance, before it smoothly pushed past the ring of muscle. Viggo didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed in the tight passage of the lithe body beneath him. Waiting until he felt the young man relax, he slowly withdrew, before thrusting forwards again. Altering the angle of his thrusts he kept a slow pace until he found…..there. Orlando cried out as Viggo hit the sweet spot. The pace increased, each time spearing the spot inside him. Soon the room was filled with the sounds flesh slapping, heavy breathing and soft cries. Orlando cried out in release as Viggo fisted his neglected erection. Viggo continued to thrust harder as he felt the muscles contact around him, groaning as he spent himself inside the young man. Withdrawing his softening member, he quickly discarded the condom before lying back on the bed, pulling Orlando close to him. Kissing the younger man on the forehead he enveloped him in his arms. Looking down he realised Orlando had fallen asleep, a small smile on his lips.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
Present

Ringing the bell, he stood there shivering, the cold finally seeping through his soaked clothes, just waiting. He could hear banging and muffle curses echoing from inside. After what seemed to be a lifetime, the door finally swung open, harsh words cut off in shock.

‘Orlando?’

Tears began to fall again, but he was too tired to care anymore. ‘I’m sorry…I had no where else to go…’

Eric pulled his dressing gown tight around himself before ushering the distraught man into the house. He had never seen Orlando look so bad. Most obviously he was soaking head to toe, his long curly locks plastered to his head, but what shocked him the most was the look on his face; the look of someone who had just lost everything. Without saying a word he lead him into the living room; quickly stripping the wet clothes off the younger man and wrapping him in a throw off the couch, rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm him up. Grabbing a small remote off the table he clicked a few buttons; the fake fire in front of them suddenly blazing to life. Sitting Orlando beside it he gently pushed the wet curls out of the young mans face, attempting to gain his attention.

‘Orlando…I’m just going into the kitchen to make you a warm drink ok? When I come back you’re going to tell me what’s wrong, understand?’ Orlando wouldn’t meet his eyes, but instead nodded slightly in acceptant. His gaze followed Eric discretely as he left the room; shivering slightly he pulled the thick throw tighter round his chilled body, turning once again to face the dancing flames. The flickering rhythm calmed him slightly, gradually dimming the turbulent thoughts running through his mind. He began to shiver more, his body protesting from not only the wet and the cold, but also the exhaustion of the last few hours. Hours? Is that all? Glancing at the clock on the wall he noticed that indeed, it had only been around 5 hours since Viggo arrived home. Why Viggo?

He started slightly as a steaming mug was placed in front of him, not having noticed Eric re-entering the room, nor sitting by him on the floor. Wrapping his hands around the mug he welcomed the searing heat that spread through his fingers, enjoying the slight pain that accompanied it. Taking a deep sip he could feel the coffee sliding down his throat, warming him from the inside out. He sent Eric a small smile in thanks, but one look at the man next to him made Orlando realise he couldn’t get away with just that.

‘Eric…I…just, thank you.’ Taking another sip he attempted to process what had actually occurred that night. 

‘Viggos’ leaving me.’ Was it really that simple? I guess so… Orlando felt a weight across his shoulders as Eric placed an arm around him, pulling him close.

‘What a bloody fool.’ Orlando couldn’t help but smile, realising that was probably as close as Eric ever got to sympathy. He didn’t say anything else; he just held Orlando close, letting the younger man rest his head on his shoulder. It wasn’t long till he heard small snores, Orlando having fallen asleep leaning against the warm form of the older man. Picking the younger man up gently, he laid him down on the sofa before throwing another blanket over him. He looks so much more peaceful…Eric ran his hand through the drying curls, lulling him back to sleep as he stirred slightly. With one last look at the sleeping form he quietly left the room and headed back to the bedroom, deciding to at least to get a few more hours. Sighing, he tossed his dressing gown onto the floor before climbing back into the now cold bed, the emptiness of the room once again raw in his mind. I miss you…

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
Two years ago…

Orlando couldn’t believe it. One year! One YEAR! Rolling over he smiled tenderly at the sleeping form next to him. He giggled softly as Viggo snorted suddenly, almost waking himself before settling down again. The first time he’d done that had shocked Orlando, causing him to jolt awake in surprise, which in turn had woken the older man. It had taken about 10 minutes for him to stop laughing long enough to explain to a rather grumpy Viggo what had happened. Smiling fondly he ran his fingers along the older mans broad chest; that had been their first night together; the day they met. One year ago today. 

Slipping quietly out of bed he quickly pulled on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt before making his way out to the kitchen. Though not the best cook in the world, Viggo had taught him enough to be able to prepare a special breakfast this morning. Unable to wipe away the silly grin currently plastered on his face, Orlando hummed softly to himself as he grabbed the ingredients needed for pancakes, before mixing together. The fact that he was still here in Viggos’ life was still somewhat a surprise; having expected their first encounter to be their last. Orlando had never really been in a relationship before, not one that lasted longer than a few weeks anyway. But Viggo, the stubborn git he was, had refused to let go; insisting that Orlando stayed at his until he managed to find an apartment of his own (in the second bedroom of course).

Job hunting had been a fun affair. There had been more than a few arguments about the young mans previous occupation despite Viggos’ initial reaction to the news. Orlando had been a little astonished to realise that Viggo had actually thought he was joking when he had told him he was a stripper; that he was just playing up while flirting. Though claiming he was fine with it, Orlando could tell the older man had been slightly knocked-back by the news; especially through the way Viggo had passionately fought against the young man returning to that line of work. Orlando had eventually conceded when he realised the older man was simply acting like an arse as he cared, rather than through any need to control his actions. Needless to say Viggo had been more than a little relieved when Orlando got a job as a waiter at a local restaurant; though he probably wouldn’t have been if he ever realised Orlando was hit on just as much in this profession as his last. 

Turning the stove on, he started to pre-heat some oil in a frying pan, a task that would have previously left him fairly daunted. They had ‘dated’ for six months before Orlando finally conceded the futility of looking for a new apartment and finally ‘officially’ moved into Viggos’ apartment…well dated may have been the wrong word; six months of mind blowing sex, with the occasional meal thrown in may have been more accurate. Orlando didn’t care though. The night Viggo had asked him to ‘officially’ move in had been the first night they’d said they’d loved each other…that was more than enough. Adding the batter to the pan, he gently tilted it, making sure the mix spread easily. Just after Orlando had made the move, Viggo had started his art again. Poems at first, followed by photographs and at least one canvas. When Orlando had asked about the sudden bout of inspiration Viggo had simply claimed to have found his muse at long last; though said muse had not been allowed to view any of the recent work as such. Viggo said he wanted him to be surprised at the up-coming exhibition in two weeks, which the young man had grudgingly agreed to, though in reality it grated him a little to be kept apart from such an important side of his lovers’ life. 

Biting his lower lip Orlando braced himself for the most important part of the intricate procedure…..the toss. With a flick of the wrist the pancake left the pan, rotating before landing down once again, cooked side up.

‘YES!!!’ Grimacing at his over-enthusiastic response to a successful toss he froze….breathing a sigh of relief when he couldn’t hear any signs of stirring from the bedroom. Placing the pan back down he grabbed some syrup out of the cupboard, ready for later. Quickly grabbing some juice, he poured some into a glass while keeping an eye on the cooking pancake. Once done he slid the pancake on to a plate before popping it into the oven to keep warm while he ran off a couple more. Smiling to himself, he carried the completed breakfast back into the bedroom…only to stop when he found Viggo sat up in bed smiling at him.

‘I thought you’d be asleep!’ Viggo grinned at the younger man before motioning him forward, planting a gentle kiss on his lips; wary of the tray between them. 

‘Morning to you to sunshine.’ Orlando placed the tray on Viggos’ lap before dashing round the other side of the bed to crawl back under the covers. Leaning over he pulled Viggos’ face to his, crushing lips together.

‘Morning! I wanted to surprise you. Happy anniversary!’ Viggo looked down at plate in front of him; upon which sat….crepes. Why has he given me a desert for breakfast?

‘You always said you loved pancakes for breakfast…so…tada!’ Viggo tried not to laugh, realising too late that the Brits obviously had a different type of pancake to the stacked breakfast ones he was referring to. 

‘Thank you.’ Grabbing the syrup he doused the pancakes before taking a bite. He was pleasantly surprised to find they actually tasted as good as they looked; not always a certain when Orlando was cooking. Spearing another bit on his fork, he held it out to the eager lips next to him, groaning as Orlando took the morsel slowly into his mouth; somehow managing to make pancake eating a simply sinful act. Leaning over he licked the excess syrup off the younger mans lips.

‘I think I like this breakfast better’. 

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Orlando couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as he waited outside the doors to the exhibit. Despite all the requests, moans, whines…and even the occasional pout, he had still to see any of the work currently sequestered behind the galleries doors. What made him nervous was the fact he knew he was the feature of some of it, and soon everyone else waiting to enter would also. What if they don’t like it? Glancing around for what seemed the hundredth time he tried to locate Viggo, once again with no luck. The older man had disappeared a little while ago with the gallery manager, and had yet to re-appear; leaving Orlando a little at a loss. He was startled out of his thoughts when the doors began to open…it was time.

Following the crowd he was relieved to see Viggo just inside the entrance, greeting people as they entered. He quickly made his way to the older man, ignoring the whispers that erupted as he placed a chaste kiss on his lips. He was taken back by the fleeting look of embarrassment that coloured the older mans face for a moment, before Viggo took his hand and led him towards the back of the exhibit. Orlando marvelled at the photos on the wall as they passed; all looked so bright and vibrant. He wanted to stay longer to look, but obviously Viggo was intent on showing him something, so instead he just followed him towards the back corner of the room. A large canvas hung from the wall, almost hidden out of the way. Viggo stopped and placed Orlando in front of it, smiling proudly at the piece of work.

‘What do you think?’ Orlando didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting but it certainly wasn’t this. Unlike the bright pieces he’d passed earlier this one was…well, almost painful to behold. He stood staring up at a portrait of himself. Except, this wasn’t him! The person looking back at him appeared so…empty…broken. The dark tones of greys and blacks surrounding the edge of the painting seemed to be closing in on the sad figure in the centre …attacking ….suppressing …smothering. Pieces of poetry seemed to have been etched directly into the layers of paint heightening the unsettling effect.

There’s something inside me that pulls beneath the surface  
Consuming…confusing…  
This lack of self-control I fear is never-ending…controlling

I can’t seem to find myself again.   
My walls are closing in   
I’ve felt this way before,  
So insecure….

Drawing in a shuddered breath Orlando turned to look at the man next to him, who instead was now deeply engaged in conversation with a short blond man. Is this how you really see me? This pathetic weak creature crapped on by the world at large? Is this how I appear to you? Grabbing a glass of Champagne off a passing waiter he turned back to the painting in front of him, unable to tear his gaze away. He didn’t notice as Viggo wandered off to talk to a group of women gushing over a bright photo in the centre of the gallery, nor did he notice when he was joined in his silent vigil.

‘I like this one.’ Orlando tried not to start as the strong Australian voice shook him out of his stupor. ‘It just seems more real than the rest airy-fairy crap round here’.

‘Its all lies you know’ Orlando took a sip of his drink as he looked up at the man next to him. Tall, dark and oh so very handsome immediately sprang to mind. Brown eyes turned to meet his, a quirky grin forcing him to return one of his own. ‘None of this is real. It’s just bull-shit.’

The older man grinned wider as he slowly raked his eyes over the younger man, obviously liking what he saw. ‘All art’s bull-shit. Those pretty pictures out there...bloody nonsense. Just some poor wanker trying to make the world seem a pretty place. This however, well, this is real fucking life!’ He gestured wildly at the painting. Orlando really tried not to grin at the large Australian, but couldn’t help but giggle when he noticed the glares sent their way from the arty snobs in the corner; their ‘highly serious and important conversation’ having been momentarily interrupted. 

‘I’m Orlando by the way’. He held out his hand to the larger man, which was almost enveloped by the large hand that covered it.

‘Eric.’

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
Two years ago…

Viggo couldn’t believe how well everything seemed to be going! To actually have his work exhibited, for people to actually like it; it was literally his dream come true. Smiling, he gradually made his way around the room, taking time to answer any questions people had about certain pieces of work. 

Grabbing a drink from a passing waiter he took a sip, his gaze slowly taking in the room before finding the person he sought. He was surprised to see Orlando still stood in front of the large portrait in the corner where he had taken him earlier. Viggo quickly tried to recall whether he’d asked him to wait there for him, but realised he hadn’t had time to say much before being accosted by the rather enthusiastic blond man. Starting towards the younger man he was stopped short when a figure suddenly blocked his path. Blond wavy hair tumbled over slim shoulders; blue eyes caught and held his gaze.

‘Viggo Mortensen? I’m Miranda…Miranda Otto’. He grasped the hand offered to him, her slim fingers feeling soft in his slightly roughened hands. Smooth like Orlandos’….no, more feminine, more delicate… Something suddenly clicked in Viggos’ head.

‘Miranda Otto? The photographer? Your work is breath-taking! Your book, ‘Meet me on the road’, I just couldn’t stop looking at it…’ Dear God Viggo! By all you hold dear stop talking!

He was more than a little relieved when, instead of running for the hills, she sent him a brilliant smile; the effect of which was currently pooling between his legs. Shifting slightly he prayed she wouldn’t notice, after all, that wasn’t really the type of publicity he was hoping for.

‘Thank you! I was actually coming over here to praise your work…’ She likes my work! ‘Your use of space is just so well thought out.’ 

‘I have to say Miranda, you are the first person to have actually notice that this evening.’

‘Really? But it’s so obvious! The way your brighter pieces inhabit the majority of the room, creating the illusion of, well, happiness…joy…then to have that single canvas, tucked away in the shadows. That piece is so full of pain and uncertainty…the piece of us we all try so desperately to hide… Tell me Viggo, is this exhibit really you?’ Miranda stepped closer; Viggo couldn’t help but smell her perfume…it was captivating. 

‘You mean am I this handsome artist who is actually a tortured soul deep down? Afraid not.’  
Miranda looked coyly up at him through her eyelashes, ‘I think your wrong about that you know, or at least the handsome artist bit’. 

Grabbing another drink off a waiter he handed it to Miranda, their fingers lingering on each other for a moment. The young woman smiled in thanks before taking a sip of the Champaign, the bubbles dancing lightly on her tongue. Viggo also took a sip of his neglected glass, their eyes never breaking contact. Licking her lips she reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, smiling when Viggos’ eyes hungrily followed her movement.

‘So…are you here alone?’ Miranda shook her head, her curls swaying tantalisingly around her face.

‘No, I’m here with my boyfriend Eric. He’s just over there by the canvas.’ Looking up Viggo tried to discreetly glance into the corner, intrigued about what the enchanting Mirandas’ other half would look like. He was not impressed. Sure the man was attractive, with his short dark hair, large muscled physic and cheeky smile; however at this moment in time he also appeared to be flirting with Orlando. Viggo gritted his teeth as he watched the younger man playfully touch Erics’ bicep, laughing at something the older man had said. His attention was drawn away from the pair by a light caress on his arm.

‘Is something wrong?’ Miranda glanced back at the laughing duo before fixing her gaze on Viggo. The man seemed upset about something, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what. ‘Is he your boyfriend?’ 

Viggo opened his mouth to reply, but something stopped him. He should just say it. Yes, the young man throwing himself at Eric is my boyfriend. But for some reason he couldn’t. Staring into the eyes of the woman before him, he just couldn’t bring himself to say those simple words. Saying it would mean possibly closing doors he was not willing to shut, especially the one currently standing before him.

‘He’s a close friend’ You cowardly shit. Glancing again at Orlando he felt sick. How can you betray him like that? No matter how much he currently hated himself, he just couldn’t bring himself to admit the truth. Instead he just smiled, taking Mirandas’ arm in his, and headed over to the pair in the corner.

Present day…

Eric awoke to the aroma of coffee filtering through the house. Smiling to himself he stretched his arms above his head, attempting to shake the remnants of sleep from his muscles. The smile quickly slipped from his face when memories suddenly rushed back to great him. Miranda saying she didn’t love him anymore…that she was leaving him. Him begging and crying for her to stay…none of it making a difference. Orlando turning up in the early morning, soaking wet and in shock at Viggo leaving him. What are the odds? Picking up his discarded robe off the floor he quickly pulled it on while heading towards the kitchen; the smell of coffee increasing as he entered the room. Orlando was sat at the breakfast bar, nursing a steaming mug in his hands. Looking up he smiled at Eric, though it never quite reached his eyes.

‘Morning.’ The kid looks as bad as I feel. Orlandos’ eyes were red rimmed and slightly swollen, whether from crying or lack of sleep Eric wasn’t sure. Probably both… He was dressed in one of Erics’ t-shirts and a pair of sweats, both of which must have been dug out of the laundry. The shirt simply swamped the kid, making him seem even younger …and cuter…, and the Aussie was pretty sure that if Orlando stood the bottoms would most likely slip down and pool around his feet. Looking at the earnest face staring at him he tried not to laugh. 

‘What?’ Orlando had caught the amusement on the older mans face.

‘Nothing.’ Turning his back on the young man he quickly poured himself a coffee.

‘No, what is it?’ Ok….

‘It’s your hair.’ Orlandos’ hand quickly shot to his hair, before he turned to catch his reflection in the window. Sleeping on wet hair was never a good idea, especially if it was curly. He tried not to be too dismayed at the fizzy mess that was currently attached to his head, especially as it was fairly flat down one side where he had been lying on it, while the other side looked like a bird nest.

‘Shit. Definitely need a shower.’ Eric snorted, as Orlando sent him another grin; this one genuine however.

‘Wheres’ Miranda this morning? I hope I didn’t wake her last night’. Eric froze, unprepared for the swirl of emotions the simple question evoked. Placing his mug down on the counter he quickly got up and headed for the living room, needing a moment to calm his turbulent feelings. A moment he wasn’t going to receive as Orlando followed him through.

‘Eric…What wrong?’ Standing in front of the fireplace he gripped the mantle piece, centring himself.

‘Miranda left me two days ago.’ Eric was surprised how weak his voice sounded, considering how much anger he currently felt…towards Miranda, towards the fucker she ran off with…towards himself… He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder turning him around. He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to see the pity in the younger mans eyes but his body betrayed him. It craved the comfort of the arms that slowly wrapped around him, the warmth of the body pressed against him. He rested his head on Orlandos’ shoulder, pulling him close as tears began to fall from his eyes. He was so tired of crying but he couldn’t seem to stop. He felt a hand gently caressing his hair; soothing murmurs whispered into his ear as he released his anguish. Eventually the tears dried up, his sorrow no longer as paralyzing as it had been. Pulling away from the younger man he was surprised to notice tears silently slipping from the large brown eyes. He gently wiped them away; placing a chaste kiss on the younger mans trembling lips, before encompassing him in a gentle embrace.

‘We make quite the bloody pair don’t we.’ He could feel tremors running through the lithe body he held…those these, he was happy to note, were from laughter. Orlando pulled away and slumped heavily on the sofa, still tittering slightly. He stopped suddenly, frowning as he mulled something over.

‘Did Mir…did she leave you for someone?’ Eric nodded, suddenly realising where this track of thought was heading. What are the odds indeed you fucking idiot! He could feel his rage rising again as conclusions quickly formed in his head.

‘Viggo told me he was leaving me for a photographer he met at an exhibit….a woman’. Orlando couldn’t help but spit out the last part; distaste seeping through. The sense of betrayal ran through his veins, quickly overtaken by anger. He jumped as a vase suddenly flew across the room, smashing against the wall; the coffee table quickly followed suit. Orlando was both amazed and frightened by state Eric had wound himself into…he was a strong bloke.

‘FUCKING BASTARD! IF I EVER SEE THAT FUCKING WANKER I’LL BREAK HIS FUCKING NECK!’ Running out of things to throw, or break, Eric began pacing the room, the power behind each movement visibly on display. Orlando knew the wisest idea was to just sit back quietly and let Eric run out of steam. However Eric wasn’t the only one affected by the sudden realisation…

‘What do you mean you’ll break his neck! That fucking BITCH is just as much at fault. Slut couldn’t keep her fucking legs together…’ The rest of the tirade was abruptly cut off as a large hand suddenly encircled his neck. Caught in the moment Orlando lashed out, catching Eric across the face before kicking him in the leg, darting backwards when the grip on his throat was suddenly released. He wasn’t prepared however for the backhand that caught him round the cheek, sending him spiralling to the floor. He could taste blood in his mouth, the force of the blow having split his lip. Scrambling up he launched himself at Eric, only to be caught and tossed onto the sofa, before bouncing back to the floor. 

He kicked and twisted as he felt the larger body pin his own to the ground. Squirming onto his back he noticed Eric had discarded his robe, the material having hindered his movements, to be now clad only in the boxers he slept in. Using this to his advantage Orlando pushed upwards, sinking his teeth into the mans’ upper arm until he tasted blood. Eric yelled…whether in pain or outrage Orlando wasn’t sure. Orlando grunted as his head was suddenly slammed forcibly against the floor…his vision swimming for a moment. He involuntarily stilled, waiting for his thoughts to refocus, only to realise that during his laps his shirt had somehow been removed. He struggled, desperately trying to get out from under the larger man who currently held his wrists in one large hand above his head. He bucked his hips, trying to unseat the man above him, only to cry out when an answering hardness roughly rubbed against his own erection. 

As if this was some hidden signal Eric swiftly lent down, capturing Orlandos’ lips with his own. This was not the tender kiss of lovers; his lips ravished the younger mans, tongue fucking the eager mouth open to him. Eric grabbed a handful of hair, forcing the younger mans head back at a painful angle. He sucked and nibbled the slender throat with a ferocity that was sure to leave a mark, urged on by the writhing of the body below him. He growled as Orlando rotated his hips, grinding their pelvises together; the maddening friction stoking his desire.

Releasing the younger mans wrists he hastily pulled off his boxers, followed by Orlandos’ borrowed sweat pants. Taking Orlandos’ erection in hand he began to roughly pump, milking the weeping head of its pre-cum. Releasing it, he ignored the younger mans outraged cry and spread the pre-cum over his own aching member. Grabbing Orlando by the hips he roughly pulled him closer, spreading the firm thighs either side of him, before breaching the boy in one smooth motion. Orlando cried out in pain as he felt Erics’ huge cock lance into him without any preparation; the burning smothering his senses. Eric stilled, waiting for the tight channel surrounding him to relax. After a few minutes Orlando began to relax, the look of pain retreating from his features…only to be replaced by…

‘For Fucks sake! Fuck me Eric!’ Grinning Eric began to pull out slowly, only to slam back into the willing body; his balls slamming against Orlandos’ arse. Orlando grunted, his erection twitching with each thrust. Wrapping his legs around the broad back he attempted to pull Eric closer, meeting each thrust as it was driven into his body. Throwing his arms round Erics’ shoulders he pulled him down, the older man bracing himself either side of Orlandos’ head as he continued to pound into the wanton body beneath him. 

‘Fuck me…Fuck me …Fuck me…’ Orlandos’ voice grew with each invasion of his body, practically screaming out when Eric began to pound his prostrate with each stroke.

‘FUCK ME! FUCK ME!’ Orlando could feel the sweat dripping off his skin, his body crying out for release. Eric grunted above him, the older mans head swaying in front of his face with each plunge into the tight channel between his buttocks. Orlando cried out as his body finally reached his peak, his body tightening, milking Erics’ cock as he road out his orgasm till the older man cried out in completion as well, emptying his load into the young man. Eric collapsed onto the lithe body beneath him, kissing him gently as his thrust his softening member a few more times before pulling free. 

No words were spoken as they lay there, each stated in their anger for the time being. Eric leaned back slightly, caressing Orlandos’ flushed face with his hand; pacing butterfly kisses to swollen lips with his own. Grinning, he transferred his caresses to Orlandos’ hair, a weak attempt to smooth out the frizzy curls currently sticking out in various directions. 

‘I think we definitely need a shower now.’

Present…

Orlando stepped under the spray, wincing as the hot water ran over raw skin. Carpet burn…oh the joy. Shifting, he waited for the throbbing to die down before massaging shampoo into his hair, careful to try to minimise the run off of suds down his already stinging back. Watching the bubbles slowly slink down his chest, leaving small trails in their wake, he smiled to himself; scooping up the errant suds and using them to clean the thin layer of sweat from his chest and arms. His grin faulted when he caught sight of his hands, the tips of his nails inexplicably dark. Furiously scrubbing the dried blood from under his nails he tried to remember at what point he’d left the corresponding scratches down Erics’ back, a reminder that would most likely last longer than any emotional benefits gained. 

His mind continued to swirl, unable to comprehend the sudden events of the last 12 hours. Viggo had left him for Miranda. Not just some stranger, but someone he actually knew… They were the ones to blame, the cause of all this hurt, the deep sense of betrayal; so why did he feel so damn guilty? Viggo had left him, yet Orlando felt as though **he** was the one in the wrong; that he’d been unfaithful in fucking Eric. Grabbing a bottle of conditioner, he poured some into his hands, rubbing his palms together before furiously working it into his hair. One question Orlando was desperately trying to ignore was what exactly was he supposed to do now? Rinsing the conditioner out of his hair, he turned off the water, wrapping himself in a large towel before heading into Erics’ room to get changed; his clothes now dry from the downpour the night before.

Emerging 10 minutes later he made his way into the kitchen, blushing when Eric sent him a cheeky grin from where he was sat at the breakfast bar. Shaking off the strange sense of deja-vu, he grabbed a bowl off the counter, filling it with cereal before taking the stool opposite the large Aussie. 

‘So….’ Orlando started; though he suddenly realised he had no idea what it was he actually wanted to say. Luckily, Eric came to his rescue…

‘How’s your back? You scratched the hell out of mine mate’. Orlando couldn’t help but blush as Eric saucily grinned at him, from across the table. 

‘It’s fine. A little sore but…oh well!’ Orlando discreetly watched Eric was he doused his cereal with a nearby carton of milk. Though he appeared to be acting normal, Orlando could see the tension lining the older man’s posture. 

Standing suddenly Orlando stepped over to the coffee machine, pouring two mugs before placing one in front of the large Aussie as he sat back down. Ignoring the questioning look sent his way, Orlando took a small sip of the steaming drink. Right now he desperately needed the caffeine to help centre his turbulent thoughts. 

‘What you thinking?’ Eric managed to grumble between mouthfuls of cereal.

‘What to do now,’ Orlando sighed, placing his mug back on the table as he looked at the now serious expression on Erics’ face, ‘I mean…no, that is what I mean...’

‘Are you going to go back to England?’ 

‘I honestly don’t know….’ Orlando jumped as Eric slammed his spoon down on the tabletop.

‘Fuck it Orli! You can’t just go bloody running ‘cause of what that moron did!’

‘I didn’t say I was! It was just a thought. And don’t yell at me!’ Eric pushed back from the table, rising in one smooth motion as he glared down at the younger man, who in turn stared right back; refusing to be intimidated by the looming Aussie. Orlando watched as the larger man seemed to deflate in front of his eyes; shoulders slumping in defeat. Eric wasn’t mad at him, he knew that. Eric was scared…scared of now having to face the unknown. 

Slowly rising Orlando made his way round to the older man, stepping close and wrapping his arms around the broad torso. He looked up as large arms enveloped his smaller form, smiling up at the man above him.

‘It’ll be alright you know…You can get through this’ He didn’t protest as Eric leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He knew right now the older man just needed some small measure of reassurance…of comfort. 

Eric wrapped his hands round the slim waist, easily lifting the younger man onto the counter top. Spreading his legs, Orlando pulled Eric closer; mouths once again meeting. He shivered as Erics’ tongue thrust rhythmically into his mouth; a delightful parody that sent sparks straight to his groin. Orlando ran his hands up the broad back, fisting clumps of the short damp hair when they reached Erics’ head. Orlando sighed when Eric pulled back, instead turning his attention to the young man's exposed throat. Licking and nipping his way down the milky expanse, Eric paid extra attention to the junction between neck and shoulder when Orlando bucked beneath him. So intent on caressing the small area of skin, he didn’t realise Orlando had started to push against him till a quiet voice broke through the haze.

‘Eric…Eric stop…Please…’ Pulling back he was surprised to find tears in the deep brown eyes locked with his. 

‘What’s wrong?’ Eric placed his hands on the sides of Orlandos’ face, forcing the younger man to maintain eye contact when he began to look away.

‘Eric…we…I…this is wrong’. 

‘Wrong? What about last night?’ 

‘Eric…’ Orlandos’ voice was plaintive.

‘No. I know…’ Last night had been…well, something they had both needed. It may have been easy for Miranda to just walk away, but Eric…Eric still loved her, and he was sure Orlando felt the same about Viggo.

Stepping back he allowed the younger man to slide off the countertop. Orlando took the large Aussies’ hand in his, squeezing it briefly before quietly padding out of the room. Eric didn’t look up, his gaze firmly locked on the now vacant surface as a thought he had tried to ignore finally made its voice heard… _What am I supposed to do now?_. Sitting back at the breakfast bar he wrapped his large hands round the cooling mug of coffee. The sound of the front door banging shut pulled him out of his stupor, but he didn’t bother moving to see what it was…. He knew what it was…who it was, just as he knew he wouldn’t see the young man again. 

One year, six months ago...

‘Viggo please!’ Viggo sighed as he tried and failed to get his tie to lie straight.

‘Orlando, for the last time, no. It’s just a business meeting, you’d be bored stiff.’

‘But you’re always away on meetings these days. I never get to see you anymore.’ Orlando threw himself down on the sofa, glaring at the older man’s back. He dropped his gaze to the floor when Viggo turned round, missing the momentary flash of guilt that crossed the man’s face. Viggo sat down next to him, taking hold of one of the young man's hands between his. 

‘Baby, you know I’m sorry about that, but with my new book coming out….its just a really busy time for me right now.’ Viggo lifted Orlandos’ hand, placing a small kiss across his knuckles.

The exhibition had been a huge success; both with the public and the critics, so it was not long before a publishing opportunity came knocking. Orlando had been as excited as Viggo at first, but soon the shine had worn off. Viggo was in high demand now it seemed, flying all over the world to promote not only the exhibit, but now the upcoming book as well. The young man had tried to be supportive, but after 6 months of meetings, interviews and openings, he was about ready to scream or cry…possibly both. 

‘Are you ashamed of me?’ Viggo looked up at the timid question.

‘What?’ Orlando winced at the harshness of the tone.

‘It’s just…we never go anywhere anymore Vig…not together.’ 

‘What? We went out for dinner last week’. Viggo pulled back, the sudden move catching Orlando's eye. The young man turned to face him, tightening his grip on Viggos’ hand so the artist couldn’t pull away further.

‘No we didn’t. We were supposed to but you cancelled…’

‘What else?’ Viggo knew he sounded defensive.

‘You never talk about me!’ Orlando looked surprised to have blurted it out. ‘I mean, well…in interviews and stuff. You always say you’re dating someone…your inspiration…but you never say its me.’ 

‘Are you mad because I haven’t mentioned you to the media?’ Orlando knew Viggo hadn’t understood him by the shocked look on his face.

‘No! I’m trying to say…shit…what I mean is…err…’ 

‘Well? Spit it out!’ 

‘You don’t want people to know about me…that I’m a guy…’ Orlando twisted his hands in his lap, uncertain how Viggo would take his declaration. After a minute of silence, he finally looked up at the form in front of him. Viggos’ expression was unreadable, though the fact he had his hands clenched by his sides did not bode too well. 

‘You think that because I haven’t shouted out to the world that I don’t love you? That I’m ashamed of you. How can you think so little of me?’ Whatever Orlando had been expecting it wasn’t that.

‘No… it’s just that…’

‘That’s exactly what you think’, Viggo interrupted, ‘you think that because I don’t walk around with my ‘I love Orlando’ t-shirt on that I’m ashamed of you? Did you ever stop to think that maybe I like to keep that side of my life private? No. You preferred to just think I was that bad guy…that I didn’t love you.’ Orlando couldn’t stop the tears that began to fall from his eyes. Viggo was right, he hadn’t thought that…he’d just assumed…

Orlando launched himself forwards, wrapping his arms round the stiff man, sobbing into his jacket. He almost cried out in relief when he felt Viggos’ arms wrap round him; to think he’d almost let his insecurities ruin things. 

Orlando smiled as his love grabbed his bag; kissed him goodbye as left the apartment…it never occurred to him that he hadn’t actually received any sort of an answer. 

Present day….9 months on from when Orlando left...

‘I saw Eric today’. The brush paused above the canvas as Viggo looked over.

‘Really?’ Miranda nodded as she took a sip of her coffee. Placing the mug back down she idly flicked through the paper on the table, though Viggo could see she wasn’t really taking any of it in.

‘How was he?’ Placing the palette and brush on the small table he picked up his paint splattered mug, taking a sip of the lukewarm liquid. Miranda gave up the pretence of reading and sat back in her chair, sighing as she picked at the edge of the counter top.

‘He looked terrible…’ She stopped attacking the counter top when Viggo pointedly looked at her, ‘he…he begged…actually begged me to come back to him. God Viggo, to see him like that…’

‘You still love him don’t you?’ Miranda looked up sharply; head already shaking in denial. 

‘Yes…I mean no!’ Standing, she hurriedly grabbed her mug, heading to the sink to rinse the remnants out. She tensed as she heard Viggo follow her through.

‘You still love him?’ the quiet voice asked from behind her. 

‘I…I think I do.’ Turning Miranda was surprised to see Viggo looking less than devastated…in fact, he seemed pleased by her admission.

‘This never really worked for us did it?’ Miranda tried to deny it…she wanted to…but she couldn’t. He was right. For some reason the spark seemed to have gone out of their relationship a long time ago. If she was totally honest with herself, leaving Eric had been one large mistake from the outset. Still, she was more than a little surprised at Viggos’ cheerful response.

‘You’re not mad?’ Viggo smiled at her, reaching forwards to take her hands in his.

‘No…I’m not mad. I have a small admission to make too’.

‘You still love Orlando?’ Viggo laughed to himself.

‘I’m such a fool,’ Viggo squeezed her hands, ‘do you think we’ve messed this up too badly?’

Miranda deflated as she thought of Eric…the way he had seemed earlier. He had been so defeated…so unlike he used to be…and she had caused that. 

‘I don’t know. I really don’t know…’

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Eric stood outside staring up at the gaudy neon sign buzzing above him. He wasn’t entirely sure he could bring himself to enter a club called ‘Fantasmic’…. A harsh cough from a stern looking security guard snapped him back to reality. Nodding at the balding man he decided to just suck it up and stepped down the stairs. Pulsing music hit him as he emerged into the first room of the club; neon lights flashing madly above him. Pushing through a drunken group of men blocking the entrance he forced his way towards the bar; ordering a beer before surveying the room. Taking a long drink, he watched the figure dancing on the platform; a young girl wearing leather studded chaps and a leather push-up bra threw herself around a pole before gyrating her hips to the beat of the music. Grinning into his drink he watched as a drooling man grabbed hold of her leg; only to be promptly kicked in the head before the girl motioned one of the security guards over to drag the drunken fool out. Eric was definitely impressed with her spunk. Downing his beer he turned back to the barman; ordering a double shot of whisky. He had every intention of getting utterly pissed tonight….

Eric wasn’t sure how many he’d finally had when he became aware of someone else in the smoky room; something just drew his eye to one of the ‘workers’ circulating the floor. Gazing blearily through the surging body of people his eyes locked on a blond-haired cowboy chatting up a fat executive and passed, to a brown haired Indian leaning against the stage. Struggling to his feet he pushed forwards; staggering as he bounced off other patrons before finally skidding to a halt in front of the young man. 

Brown eyes looked up at him in surprise; a coy smile on the beautiful face. Erics’ eyes drank in the sight before him; firm legs hugged by hide chaps - complete with manhood hiding soft codpiece, bare torso lightly tanned, long wavy hair decorated with beads and what appeared to be a rook feather….Orlando was simply breath-taking. He reached forwards to hug the young man but was surprised when the youth shook his head, quickly stepping out of reach. Motioning towards a passageway down the side of the stage he took off, Eric right behind him, eyes glued to the younger mans’ buttocks which were clearly visible as only a thin strap of material covered the cleft. The rhythmic beat of the music became more muffled as they stepped down the corridor.

‘Orlando…’

‘You can’t touch me. Not while I’m working’ Eric stepped back from the younger man even though he ached to hold that lithe body in his arms once again.

‘Can we talk?’ Orlando shook his head, looking back out into the club. 

‘Fucking hell! Orlando please! I really need to talk to you.’ 

‘If you want me alone you can pay for a private room…’ Orlando shifted his gaze back to the slightly swaying Aussie, ‘and my name is Qu'emi’. 

Eric fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a wad of rolled up bills. Orlando nodded before heading further down the dimly lit corridor; opening a door on the right and motioning the larger man into a small room. Eric paused as Orlando closed the door behind them; the click of a lock ensuring privacy. The room was circular in nature; a padded bench lining the circumference of the wall, a raised platform in the centre of the room. Eric watched in surprise as Orlando gracefully stepped up onto the platform; swaying to the beat of the music coming from the speakers on the roof. Reaching up he growled in annoyance as the young man once again moved away from his grasp.

‘I said not to touch me. There are cameras in the ceiling…You touch me, you’ll be gone’. Without breaking the fluidity of motion Orlando stepped across to the bench, lightly padding around the room.

‘Sit down Eric’. The larger man glared at the grinning Indian, but realised sitting was probably the best option when he began to sway slightly on the spot. Dropping heavily down on the leather seat he watched as the young man continued his way round the small room before stepping back onto the raised platform. He watched mesmerised as the hips in front of his face rotated smoothly to the music. Dragging his eyes up the undulating form he licked his lips as his gaze caught on a bead of sweat gliding down the taught abs. The youth slowly ran his hands up his body; fingers flowing over the contours of his chest before continuing up to tangle in his long raven locks. Erics’ tongue felt thick in his mouth as he watched the lithe body move; a sinful extension of the music flowing through him. Eric felt a jolt pass through him as his eyes locked with Orlandos’; the intensity of the look sending molten heat to his already straining member. Realising if he didn’t do something soon he would likely jump the younger man, regardless of the cameras, Eric desperately broke the connection.

‘Orlando….I need to talk to you.’ Eric almost came then and there as Orlando suddenly spun so his back was to the straining man. Bending fluidly at the waist his eyes once again caught Erics’ through his spread legs; teasing him as he slowly rotated scantily clad cheeks in the older mans’ face before slowly straightening his body; hands running along the back of his hide covered legs as he rose before naughtily tracing the strip of material covering the cleft of his buttocks as he continued to sway.

‘No you don’t. This time isn’t for talking…and my name is Qu'emi’. Eric growled in frustration. He shifted, trying to ease the torturous pressure on his straining erection; the movement however made him gasp as the rough material of his jeans scraped against the tender skin.

‘Then what the fuck is this time for… Qu'emi?’ Eric sneered at the younger man.

Orlando dropped to his knees; thighs spread as he leaned backwards till his hair ghosted the platform surface. He moved his arms to lie alongside his head before rising forwards once again, till his face rested mere centimetres from Erics’; the older mans heavy breathing skimming his skin.

‘This time is for you…I’m at your command. I will do whatever you want me to, except talk,’ Orlando smiled as the triumphant look quickly faded from Erics’ flushed face, ‘and you still can’t touch me’, Orlando quickly moved till he was straddling Eric, the Aussies’ erection nudging against the younger mans’ buttocks, ‘but I can touch you if that is what you desire….’. Just as quickly he was off the panting man and back to dancing on the platform. 

Eric gripped the edge of the leather covered bench hard; desperately trying to regain control and dispel the lust driven haze that had smothered his senses. Orlandos’ offer had almost undone him.

‘I…I want you to kiss me…’ Right now Eric didn’t care if he stuttered; the sight of that young man writing in front of them would have turned anyone to a jibbering idiot.

Orlando dropped to his hands and knees, crawling across the platform till he was directly in front of Eric. Leaning closer, he teasingly ran his tongue along Erics’ quivering lips before closing the distance. Eric gripped the bench so tightly he thought his fingers would break; realising that not touching the young man may quickly become impossible. Reluctantly breaking the kiss is stared into the wide brown eyes.

‘Orlando…You’re going to have to tie my hands…I want you to tie my hands’. Orlando slipped off the platform before once again straddling the older man. Lips once again met; tongues battling for dominance. Eric groaned as Orlando pulled back; surprise quickly flooding him as he noticed that the young man had somehow managed to remove Erics’ belt without him noticing. Orlando made quick work of binding the larger mans hands behind his back, before returning to his former position in the Aussies’ lap. Eric groaned into the kiss as the Indian began to slowly grind his buttocks against his staining erection. Feather light touches along his arms and back sent tingles through Erics’ already sensitive body. Pulling back, he looked into the younger mans’ lust filled eyes.

‘I want you to dance again for me.’ Orlando looked puzzled for a split second before once again mounting the platform; body swaying to the beat. Eric unconsciously licked his lips as he looked at the hide costume; codpiece now misshapen as the young mans cock visibly strained against it. 

‘Can…can you take off the codpiece….but leave the chaps on?’ Orlando winked at the bound man as he slowly ran his fingers down his chest before centring on his groin. A sudden flick of his fingers and the flimsy piece of material tumbled to the floor; erection now freed to stand proudly out from a patch of brown curls. 

Eric tensed his arms, but there was no give in the belt. Noticing Orlandos’ fingers were skimming the head of his weeping cock Eric decided he wasn’t going to be the only one to suffer.

‘Hey! From now on you’re not allowed to touch yourself unless I say’. Eric grinned at the petulant look that formed on the braves’ face; bottom lip jutting out – just screaming to be sucked. 

‘Right…now I want you to pull my jeans down…without using your hands!’ Eric was really starting to enjoy this no touching rule. Orlando slipped gently from the platform so he was knelt in front of Erics’ crotch. Leaning forwards he placed his slender hands on Erics’ spread knees to support his weight; gently nuzzling his face against the tented material before taking the button between his teeth. Eric had no idea how he managed it, but the button quickly popped free…. he was definitely in awe of Orlandos’ tongue. Erics’ breath hitched as the youths’ head pushed against his stomach as teeth sought for the zip; he could hear him practically purring as he managed to catch hold of the latch and pull it down. Eric bucked as he felt that tongue circling the head of his erection as it poked its way free of the denim prison. He grunted in annoyance as the little tease backed away and continued to work Erics’ jeans down his firm thighs with only his teeth. Once they had had been pulled to his knees Eric decided that would be enough.

‘Stop. Get back on the platform….That’s it. Now I want you to turn around…spread your legs…no, wider….that’s it baby…now finger yourself.’ Erics’ breathing grew ragged as he watched the youth suck on his finger till it was dripping with saliva, before slowly circling the small puckered entrance. Eric could feel his cock throb painfully as the finger slowly disappeared into the tight hole; gradually moving forwards and backwards. Eric wasn’t sure if he had said anything; a haze had long ago smothered his senses, but he watched as Orlando suddenly withdrew his finger, before hastily pushing two into himself. Eric could feel his wrists chafing against the belt as he desperately tried to free his arms; the small noises emitted by the Indian brave as he fucked himself on his fingers driving him wild. 

‘Stop!’ Orlando didn’t need to be told what to do next. Withdrawing his fingers he turned around, hastily stepping of the platform. Grabbing hold of Erics’ legs he slid him slightly forwards on the leather bench, before straddling the quivering thighs. Eric jumped slightly as something cold suddenly covered his penis. Looking down he was amazed to see Orlando hastily rolling on a condom…Where the hell did that come from? Grabbing hold of Eric’s cock, he positioned the blunt head against his entrance before suddenly plunging down. Eric flung his head back, crying out as tight wet heat surrounded him. His breathing became laboured as Orlando began to ride him hard; buttocks slapping against his thighs as Eric thrust up to meet each move. Orlando let out small keens as his body was repeatedly impaled; breath hitching as the bulbous head pounded relentlessly against his prostate. The feel of the hide covered thighs rubbing against his was driving Eric wild; the friction adding a whole new sensation to the already tempestuous mix. Opening his eyes Eric watched Orlando as he continued to impale himself on the Aussies’ large cock. The young man had his eyes closed, mouth slightly ajar as his breaths erupted in small pleasure filled gasps. Deciding that right now, he really didn’t care about the consequences Eric leaned forwards, surprising the youth as he claimed his lips in a savage kiss; tongue thrusting into the warm cavern in time with the movement of his hips. Orlando broke the kiss, leaning flush against Eric and wrapping his arms tightly around the back of the mans’ shoulders and head as his body began to shudder in the build up. Eric continued to desperately thrust into the tight channel as Orlandos’ rhythm faltered; the young man burying his head into the broad shoulder as waves of pleasure ripped through his lithe frame. Eric grunted loudly as Orlando clamped down tightly around him; squeezing his swollen cock to the point of pain, before he too found his release, spilling himself into the body wrapped around him. Eric continued to thrust…more on reaction than a conscious need as his cock finished emptying himself into the sweat coated body; before he stilled, loosely collapsing back onto the bench. 

It took Eric several minutes to re-orientate himself; to realise that Orlando was still holding tightly to him, his arms wrapped around the larger mans’ shoulders. Tilting his head slightly Eric kissed the side of Orlandos’ face, smiling as the youth turned his head so their lips could meet in a gentle caress. Harsh banging on the door caught his attention as Orlando wrapped his arms around Erics’ back; somehow freeing his hands without moving from the larger mans lap. Ignoring the noise from outside Eric pulled his arms around the youths’ sweaty body, pulling him close as he buried his face in the raven locks. Orlando pulled back, a sad smile on his face as he once again placed a small kiss on Eric’s lips.

‘Time to go,’ Orlando finally stood, allowing Eric’s limp penis to slip from inside him. He watched subdued as Orlando pulled the used condom off before tugging Erics’ jeans back up, offering no assistance. The youth kissed him once more before stepping back, retrieving his codpiece from the platform before opening the door. The youth stepped out of the room as a stern looking man stepped in, waiting for payment before he would allow him to leave.

Eric felt sick as he fumbled with his jeans, zipping them back up as he tried to ignore cum stains on his lap and shirt. Grabbing the wad of bills out of his pocket his thrust them into the waiting hand before stumbling from the room. Glancing back down the corridor he paused as he spotted Orlando just standing there….watching him leave. Without a word he turned; heading back into the smoky club and up the stairs; out into the cold night air. Eric felt numb as he staggered down the street. He’d never thought he’d have fallen low enough to pay a whore for sex…even if that whore was a friend.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Eric ignored the doorbell; content to simply stare blankly across the darkened room, his thoughts demanding more attention than anything in the physical world. Raising the bottle to his lips he took a long sip; the luke-warm beer bathing his tongue. The click of the latch as the front door opened, however, managed to lure him from his self-imposed isolation. Placing the bottle on the floor he slowly rose to his feet, careful to remain quiet as made his way across the living room. Eric pushed close against the wall as a figure stumbled into the room; he was poised to jump when the intruder suddenly flicked a light on.

‘Miranda?’ Eric stepped away from the wall; uncertainty etched across his face as he tried to process the fact his wife was stood in front of him…in their home…a home she had left just over a year ago.

‘Eric!’ she jumped around, obviously unaware anyone else was in the room. ‘What the hell are you doing! You scared me!’

‘Wha…I scared you? What are you doing here? You left…’ Eric watched as Miranda shifted on the spot, crossing her arms protectively over her chest; yet her eyes never left his.

‘I did. Now I want to come back.’ Her tone was resolved, even if her voice cracked slightly towards the end.

‘You what?’ Eric was pretty certain whatever delusions he was currently having must have been a result of the rather dodgy burger he ate earlier…it was the only explanation that made sense! 

‘I want to come home’ Miranda sounded less sure of herself now.

Eric stood, mouth agape as he tried to process what he was hearing. She wanted to come home…now…after leaving him to be with another man. He wanted to yell at her…wanted to tell her how much she had hurt him but he didn’t have the energy left. The anger had left months ago…now he just felt numb most of the time; even today…the day he had dreamed about.

‘Why?’ Erics’ voice was so quiet he wasn’t sure she had heard him at first.

‘Because…I still love you’, Miranda stepped close, cringing when the hand she placed on his arm was suddenly thrown off, ‘I love you Eric. I never stopped…’

‘Then how could you leave me?!’ Eric interrupted her.

Miranda hugged herself as she moved round to sit on the sofa, eyes watering as she looked up at him. She had run through this scenario hundreds of times in her head, yet had once to actually find an outcome in which things returned to the way they were. She watched Eric pace in front of her, before he threw himself into the chair opposite; his expression un-readable. He looked so tired…. Swallowing heavily, Miranda desperately tried to think of something…anything she could say…but there was nothing. Eric was a shadow of the man he used to be…and it was her fault. Dark rings lined his eyes; heavy stubble covered his chin – both of which made his skin appear pale and unhealthy. 

Miranda had been shocked when she had stepped into the apartment. The Eric she had married had been a bit of a neat freak – yet the home they had shared was now an absolute state; post was stacked up behind the door, beer bottles covered any available surface and the place stank of takeaway and BO. 

There was nothing she could say….

‘I…I don’t know. Is there anyway you could forgive me? Give me another chance?’ 

‘Just tell me why you did it.’

Miranda nodded, gathering the courage to speak. She owed him that much…

‘I don’t know how it started. We just sort of…’, she trailed off, struggling to think of the words. ‘It was exciting I guess. We just connected on so many levels. He was an artist…a poet, and he was striking. I won’t lie to you Eric…I did find him attractive, and he did me. At first it was just flirting…but it soon became more. I convinced myself that I loved him…but I didn’t. As much as the excitement swept me along…I always loved you. Always.’ Miranda watched the man opposite her, looking for any indication as to what he was thinking.

Minutes ticked by in silence. Miranda felt any hope she had seeping out of her as time gradually passed by. She jumped slightly when Eric suddenly stood, stepping up close to her. She looked up at him, refusing to be intimidated by him, even though her heart began to beat furiously.

‘I want to believe you…I do,’ Eric dropped down to his knees, staring closely at her, ‘we shall just have to wait and see.’

Miranda felt herself shuddering as the sobs finally left her body. She wanted to throw her arms around Eric in relief, but was pretty sure any such action would not be welcome. As such, when she felt the large familiar arms draw her close she couldn’t hold back; grabbing desperately at the warm body she had missed so much.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Viggo was growing desperate. It had been 2 months since Miranda had moved out; 2 months he’d spent trying to find Orlando and beg for a second chance, yet he had still to track down the elusive young man. There was only one last place he could think of trying…a place he had deliberately hoped he would not be driven to, yet here he was.

Bracing himself he drew a deep breath, reminding himself that Orlando was worth it…that he needed him. The rap of his knuckles against the wooden doors sounded loud to his ears; the thump echoing in time with the nervous beat of his heart. Footsteps sounded from behind the door before it swung open. Viggo braced himself…

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!’ Viggo stepped back onto the street as the large man advanced towards him.

‘Eric! This isn’t what it looks like!’ Viggo raised his hands, trying to calm the irate man in front of him.

‘I don’t care what it bloody looks like you fucker!’ Viggo was surprised to find himself suddenly on the floor; his face aching from where it had impacted Erics’ fist. Scrambling back to his feet he watched the heaving behemoth advance upon him once again.

‘Look Eric, I deserved that! I really did, but this isn’t about Miranda…I swear!’ Eric paused, glaring at the cowering man.

‘Well?’ Eric watched as Viggo rubbed his face; his left cheek already colouring. ‘Trust me mate, I want to fucking kill you, so unless you have something to fucking say I’m gonna get back to it!’ Viggo threw up his hands again in protest as Eric advanced once more.

‘Wooahh! Wait a minute, please! It’s about Orlando!’ Viggo was surprised when Eric suddenly froze, the fight fleeing from the large body as his face suddenly dropped.

‘What is it? Is he hurt? What’s wrong?’ Viggos’ heart sank. It didn’t sound like Eric had any idea where the boy was either. 

‘No…not that I know of anyway. I was kind of hoping you knew where he was. I wanted to talk to him about maybe getting back togeth-’ The second punch also caught him by surprise, though he didn’t fall this time. 

Grinding his teeth in annoyance he charged at Eric, grabbing the larger man round the waist as he barrelled into him, driving them both to the ground. Fists flew as both tried to gain the upper hand, though it was Eric that managed to pin Viggo to the pavement; his size working for him. Viggo wiggled beneath Erics’ larger form ineffectively; unable to move the Aussie off him.

‘You little fuck. As if Orlando would even look at you after what you did to him.’ Eric growled into Viggos’ ear. Stilling, Viggo stared up at the man above him. 

‘It’s none of your business what we do!’

‘I care about him so it makes it my business.’

Viggo felt anger stirring within him; both at his situation and what he read in Erics’ eyes.

‘You fucked him didn’t you?!’ Eric let go of Viggos’ arms, standing as he looked down at the prone man. Viggo opted to stay down for now, not wanting to be knocked onto his ass again.

‘You know what…I was gonna be the bigger man in this…but now I figure fuck it.’ Eric crouched next to Viggo, his voice barely above a whisper.

‘Yes…we fucked. I fucked him oh so hard. He screamed my name as he eagerly rode my cock…that delightful body of his screaming out for someone to finally show him a good time. He was so willing in my arms; desperate for a real man for a change. He loved every second of it.’ Viggo wanted to kill the man for what he was saying…yet the rational part of him knew he would have no chance against the larger man.

‘Do you know where he is?’ Viggo watched as Eric stood up, smiling down at him.

‘He works at a club called Fantasmic….with the rest of the whores.’ Eric continued to smile as Viggo quickly rose to his feet, demanding Eric take back the slur against his love.

‘Why would I lie? He is a whore…that’s where we fucked the second time, only this time I paid him…or rather his pimp. He took me to a back room in the club and fucked me for money. That’s what you drove him to…you piece of shit,’ Eric turned back towards his house, pausing briefly at the doorway, ‘Don’t come round here again Viggo’. With that Eric closed the door behind him; Viggo forgotten bleeding in the street.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Viggo realised he looked like a fairly desperate character; face swollen and bruised as he waited outside a strip-club for it to open. He didn’t care. All that stood between him and Orlando was that doorway….and the two security guards eyeing him up. Viggo watched as a group of guys wandered up to the doorway, joking with the guards before they headed into the club. what the…? Grabbing at his wrist Viggo was fairly annoyed to notice his watch seemed to be broken; most likely in his scrap earlier. The club seemed to have been open for a while.

Grinning at the security guards as he passed, Viggo descended the stairs into the smoky room; squinting against the flashing lights pulsing in time with the music. The bar was still fairly empty, only around fifteen or so guys milling around the place. The stages were unoccupied, though the workers were still circulating around the room; dispensing drinks and chatting up patrons. 

Viggo spotted Orlando fairly quickly, dressed in a skimpy Indian outfit he was stood near the bar, laughing with a young woman sporting an equally provocative cow-girl get up. Hurrying over towards the duo he saw Orlando pause as he caught sight of him; the blond girl turning to see what had caught his eye. Viggo stopped, just staring at the young man in front of him. Now he was here he didn’t know what on earth he was going to say. Orlando smiled reassuringly at the blond girl before stepping over to Viggo, the smile dropping from his face as he stood within arms reach of the older man. 

‘I…you’re looking well’ Viggo winced, that was not what he’d been planning to say first.

Orlando smirked, obviously fairly amused. ‘I wish I could say the same Viggo’.

He said my name! Viggo ran his hands roughly through his hair. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’ Orlando didn’t make a move, but Viggo could tell this had been the wrong thing to say. 

‘I can’t. I’m working.’

‘What about one of the backrooms? I’ll pay whatever it needs. I have to speak with you…’ Orlando frowned at the suggestion, and Viggo realised that what he had just said could be interpreted the wrong way, knowing now what the backrooms were for.

‘No, I can’t. I’m not allowed.’ Orlando started to step away when Viggo lightly caught hold of his arm. Orlando looked up at him in alarm, his gaze quickly darting around the room as he shrugged himself free.

‘Viggo…’, Orlandos’ voice was pleading, ‘just…just leave. Please.’

Now he was here, Viggo had absolutely no intention of leaving again without an answer…he didn’t think he’d have the nerve to go through this all again. 

‘No. I can’t. Orlando…I…I’m so sorry’, this was much harder than he thought it would be. Viggo looked down into the searching eyes of the young man before him and paused. He was wrong…this was the easiest thing he could do. All he had to do was for once in his life say what he meant.

‘I’m sorry Orlando…for what I did. For what I put you through.’ 

‘What do you want Viggo?’ Viggo struggled to hear the young man above the pounding of the music; wishing once again Orlando had agreed to going into one of the back rooms instead of attempting to have the conversation in the middle of the club.

‘I want you back.’ Orlandos’ eyes widened in disbelief; though whether this was a welcome declaration Viggo couldn’t tell. ‘I love you Orlando. I was stupid…so stupid! I…please, give us another chance.’ Viggo didn’t expect the slap, but the way his day had been going he should have expected it.

‘You just expect me to take you back! Just like that? What happened to your whore?’ Viggo bit his tongue hastily, not wanting to say anything he knew he would regret.

‘We broke it of. We…I realised I wasn’t in love with her… I love you.’ Viggo swallowed heavily as he waited for an answer. Orlando just stared at him. Those brown eyes, usually so expressive were shuttered, keeping in their secrets. 

‘Leave Viggo. I have to work.’ 

In that second Viggo was sure he felt his heart break as Orlando turned away from him; fading back into the darkness of the room. He was too late….

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

The pounding on the door pulled him from his bed, though Viggo wasn’t actually asleep. How could he be? His last chance…the love of his life had rejected him. What was worse was that deep down he knew he hadn’t really stood a chance.

Viggo opened the front door slowly; after all, someone banging on your door at 4am was never a good thing. His breath hitched as he took in the soaking person standing shivering on the doorstep. Throwing open the door the rest of the way he just stared…at a loss of what to say. 

‘I do love you Viggo. I never stopped,’ Orlando raised a shaking hand in protest as Viggo stepped towards him, ‘but you have to agree to one thing for me to come back.’

‘Anything. I’ll do anything’ Viggo didn’t care how desperate he sounded. 

‘Forget this year. Pretend it never happened,’ Orlando moved forwards, looking up earnestly into Viggos’ watering eyes, ‘No questions, no regrets. Erase this year from our lives’.

Viggo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not only did Orlando still love him…but he was willing to put aside everything Viggo had done and return to him! Unable to restrain himself Viggo shot forward, enveloping the soaked man in his embrace. 

‘Oh God yes! I…thank you. I love you so much…I was so stupid…’ Viggo stopped as Orlando pushed away from him.

‘Viggo. I said we have to forget it…starting now. No recriminations. If you can’t handle that then…well…we just can’t be.’ Viggo panicked, grabbing hold of the young man roughly and pulling him close once again.

‘I can do it! I can. Please, just stay with me. I need you…I’ve missed you so much.’ Viggo smiled as he felt the younger man relaxing into his embrace. Pulling back he tilted his head, gently kissing Orlando on the forehead, then on both cheeks before devouring his lips. 

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Viggo stared at the form sleeping next to him, smiling as watched the gentle rise and fall of the chest. Reaching out he cupped the side of the young mans’ face, caressing the soft skin beneath his palm. Every day he counted his blessings that this angel had agreed to forgive him and give him another chance…yet…. Frowning to himself, Viggo pushed away the unwanted thoughts, instead trying to concentrate on the two months they had been back together. Since Orlando had walked back into his life he had been the happiest man in the world…and the most tortured. Erics’ words continued to haunt him no matter what he did to dispel them. He ached to ask Orlando whether there was any truth in them, but that would involve going back on his word not to discuss the last year.

Shuffling closer to the young man he slowly began to caress along the contours of his chest; nuzzling his face in the crook of Orlandos’ neck, nipping at the skin there. Feeling the sleeping body respond to his touches he smiled; licking down Orlandos’ bare chest as he pushed his hand under the bed covers. Sliding his hand into the young mans’ boxers he cupped the filling erection, gently massaging the skin along the swelling cock. Orlando groaned as he began to wake up; unconsciously thrusting against the questing hand. Viggo smiled as sleepy eyes met his, only to grunt in annoyance when Orlando turned away from him. 

‘Not now Viggo…‘m tired…’ Orlando wiggled away from his lover, turning on his side as he snuggled back into the pillow. Viggo watched in disbelief as the young man began to drift back off. Shifting close one again he began to plant kisses along the back of Orlandos’ neck; an area he knew to be particularly sensitive. 

‘Ow!’ Viggo sat up as Orlandos’ batting hand managed to catch him around the head.

‘Not now Viggo. Need sleep’. Put out at being turned down again Viggo pulled Orlando onto his back, kissing him hard on the lips. He could feel the young mans’ length pressing against him, yet still he was resisting him.

‘Viggo! I said not now!’ Viggo sat up, letting the young man slide from under him. He squinted as Orlando threw the light on; his displeasure as evident as the arousal tenting his boxers.

‘What’s wrong?’ Obviously the wrong thing to say Orlando glared sleepily at him.

‘What’s wrong? Viggo, I said no!’ Viggo could feel his ire rising; his cock throbbing painfully between his legs.

‘You always say that!’ 

‘But I meant it! Viggo…,’ Orlando deflated, sitting back down on the bed, ‘I’ve been at work all night! I’m tried…I just want to sleep.’

Viggo threw off the bed covers, propelling himself to his feet. A little voice at the back of his head screamed for him to stop, but his temper was getting the best of him. He was tired, stressed and extremely horny…and Orlando was being unexpectedly difficult. Picking up his jacket he grabbed his wallet, fishing out some cash.

‘Do you want money? Is that it?’ Viggo tossed several notes in Orlandos’ shocked face.

‘What are you talking about?’ Orlando looked at the money in his lap in disbelief; his voice small.

‘I know you’re a hooker. Do I have to pay you for the pleasure too now?’ Viggo knew he had crossed the line. It was too far, but he couldn’t seem to get a grip on himself. He wanted so desperately to know…

‘I’m not a hooker! I’m a stripper! I do not take money for sex!’ Orlando screwed up the notes, throwing them back towards Viggo. Scrambling up he reached for his jeans, flushing as he pulled them on in a sudden need to cover his erection.

‘Yeah right. What about Eric? I know for a fact he paid you to fuck him.’ Orlando froze; a look of betrayal flitting across his face as he stared at Viggo. Grabbing his shirt Orlando angrily pulled it over his head. 

‘I’m a stripper, not a whore,’ walking up to Viggo he got up close; close enough to feel the older mans’ breath against his face. ‘Eric paid me to dance for him….I fucked him for free’.

Viggo clenched his fists; aware he had long ago lost control of both himself and the situation.

‘But you still fucked him!’ Orlando stepped back, smiling at him in a sickening way.

‘Is that what you wanna hear? Yes I fucked him, and he fucked me…more than once! He shoved his huge cock so far up my ass I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began. Happy?’

Viggo was not happy. How could he be? Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down, aware that the younger man was simply trying to get a rise out of him. After a moment he returned his gaze to the room, surprised to see Orlando fastening his trainers; his duffle sat beside him on the bed. Viggo jerked as he suddenly realised the young man had never actually unpacked – the bag had remained close by at all times, as if he was waiting for the eventual confrontation.

‘What are you doing?’ Viggo stepped in front of the young man as he headed towards the door.

‘Let me by Viggo’. Orlandos’ voice was cold; refusing to meet the older mans’ eyes.

‘No! You can’t…it was just an argument!’ Viggo grabbed Orlandos’ arms, attempting to catch his gaze. Brown eyes finally met his…

‘Let me go Viggo.’ There was power in his tone even though he spoke little above a whisper. 

‘Please. I’m sorry! Orlando, I won-’

‘You will’ Orlando interrupted, stepping back when Viggo released him. ‘I knew you would. I just hoped…’ Orlando watched the tears running down the older mans’ face, any compassion he would have felt numbed along with the rest of him. ‘I can’t do this any more.’

‘Please! Don’t leave me. I love you…’ Viggo dropped to his knees, grabbing at the younger mans’ legs in an effort to stop him.

‘You left me Viggo…you.’ Orlando paused, looking at the sorry excuse in front of him, ‘Now it’s my turn. Goodbye.’

‘Wait! Please, I’m sorry!’ Orlando brushed off the hands grabbing at him without looking back. 

The slamming of the door echoed in the silence of the room, broken only by the sobs of a broken man slumped by the bed.

THE END


End file.
